


I Am Your God Of Nightmares

by sin_nibbles



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dipper and Mabel are 18, I Tried, M/M, Pacifica is 19, but its not historically correct i am sorry, fluff in the middle, god AU, its hidden in between the smut, just sin, so ignore the historically incorrectness and its great, the angst is at the end, the holy trinity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-05-27 20:26:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6299134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sin_nibbles/pseuds/sin_nibbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill is the god of nightmares, and he gets a sacrifice every five years. The sacrifice is born with the marks of the gods, and once found is separated from the rest and treated as royalty. When Bill is given his sacrifice, and uses him as he pleases. But when he is done, does his mind change about the fate of his sacrifice, being the first ever god to refuse an offering? Or does he continue with the ceremony?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. God of Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> okay so I'm going to alternate POV's throughout the stories, so you get the story from both sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the Mabel/Pacifica ship will be introduced more in Dipper's POV

Bill was bored. He was more than bored, and he was annoyed beyond belief. He glared at the man standing in the doorway of his room, who kept talking though Bill was obviously disinterested in what he was saying. Bill closed his eyes and groaned, leaning forward and leaning his head against his open palms. The man droned on about the plans for the day, and Bill barely payed any attention.

“… and so it is imperative that you are ready for the feast at sundown tonight,” said the man, who didn’t seem to notice that Bill was no longer listening. “For it is your celebration.”

Bill’s head shot up as he realized what the man had said. He leaned back in his chair and laughed joyously, bouncing to his feet. He strode confidently towards the man who looked shocked at Bill’s sudden change of composure. A beautiful wide grin shone on Bill’s face as he stood beside the man, his shoulders just brushing the servant beside him. He looking out to the landscape just outside his temple and breathed in, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing upon the civilization surrounding him.

He pushed his golden hair out of his face and turned towards the man, who was still standing speechless beside him. The man was a servant, and he had never been so close to a god before. Especially Bill. Everyone was terrified of Bill, because they all knew better. They knew of his power and his tendency to be short tempered. The servant was shaking in fear. Bill slapped him on the shoulder with a low teasing laugh, looking at the man in his eyes.

“What,” said Bill, a sly smirk spreading across his face. “I couldn’t get you to shut up just a second ago and now you’re not saying a thing!”

Bill laughed mischievously to himself, turning back towards his chambers and walking across the stone carved floor. He stopped just beside the pool of crystal water that took up the space in the centre of the room. He loosened his robes and they fell swiftly to the floor. He turned around smoothly to face the man again, head tilted to the side.

“Anything else?” he said with a smirk, as the servant’s face went pale. He just shook his head, shaking slightly, and turned quickly to leave.  
“Hey wait!” called Bill, stepping into the warm water of the pool. "Did I say you could go?" Asked Bill, slight annoyance and anger hinting in his voice. The servant stopped dead and spun back around to face Bill, sheer terror flashing on his pale face. “Where is Makhlas?” He sank into the warmth of the crystal blue water, waiting for his answer, almost impatiently.

“M-Makhlas?” the servant looked confused at the question, he took a second before answering. “Well, my god, he has fallen ill so I have taken his place until he recovers.” Bill looked up startled, worry crossing his mind. Ill? No, Makhlas has a soul made of stone that man could not have fallen ill.

“Alright,” said Bill, dismissing the man with a wave of the hand. “That will be all for now.”

The man spun on his heels and took off quickly down the steps outside the temple. Bill lay in the warmth of the pool, looking around his large room, taking it all in. The room was large, and made entirely out of polished granite. Six strategically places columns held up the dome that covered the top of the room. Thin silk sheets hung from the outer edges of the ceiling, covering the space between the columns and acting as walls of the room.

The soft pale sheets fluttered in the warm summer wind. The ceiling was covered in paintings and engravings, done entirely by his father before him, who had lived in this very temple himself. One of the sheets was pulled to the side, allowing Bill to look out at the life surrounding his temple. He watched as the village surrounding him was vibrant with life. He smiled to himself and sunk into the warm depths of the pool. He let the warmth of the water embrace every inch of his dark skin, as he let his muscles relax.

He lay there for a long while, thinking about his celebration ceremony that was to take place tonight. Bill was more than excited, for this was the ceremony that he had been waiting for. Yes, he had celebrations for every little thing, but this was his favourite. This is where his people celebrate him. They celebrate the god of nightmares, they know what he will do to them if they don’t. So every five years his people throw a huge party with a feast and performances. And his favourite part, he gets a very rare and special offering from his people. Someone who was chosen from birth, someone with the marks of the sacrificed. That will be his offering tonight, a special sacrifice to Bill the god of nightmares. He smirked mischievously, because he already knew what he had planned for this sacrifice. And he was excited.


	2. The Marks of the Sacrificed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is Dipper's POV

“They’re here,” He heard a distant familiar voice. “Get up they’re here!” He grunted and rolled over, refusing to open his eyes. He knew it was early in the morning, and whoever needed him could wait. “C’mon Dipper, they’re looking for you! Get up!”

The voice rose into a shrill high pitched tone, audibly getting more annoyed by the second. Finally he gave in, rolling back over and opening his eyes to a squint. His sister stood directly in front of him, her hands on her hips as she waited for him to answer. “Dipper get up, they’ll be here any second!” Dipper closed his eyes and sighed. He sat up and pressed his palms against his eyes, wondering why his sister was waking him up so early.

“Who’s coming?” he asked, groggily. “What’s happening, Mabel why did you wake me up so early?” He looked up at his sisters, her features shining brightly in the dimly lit room. Though her face had a slight twist of anxiety hidden behind her smile, she was worried about something. But at his question her face suddenly went blank.

“Y-you didn’t… know?” she asked, looking down at the floor. “Dipper… you’re the offering,” she said, her face becoming more and more solemn and grim. “You turned 18 this morning, and your birthmarks they’re…” Her bright face and happy aura finally faded completely, despair taking over her features. “They’re the scars of the sacrificed. They’re coming for you Dipper, we need to go. Now!” With a sudden urgency, she spun around and reached under her cot just across the room from him. She pulled out a burlap bag, and Dipper could see that it was stuffed with clothes. “I’ve packed a few rations, we don't have much, but enough to get us away from here,” She spoke quickly and sharply as she rushed around the room, throwing in last minute objects into the already-full burlap sack. “If we leave now we can get far enough away th-“

“No,” Dipper said, standing off of the bed. Mabel continued talking, so entranced in her worry that she did not hear him.

“-we will have to work to survive but we can do that-“

“No!” said Dipper, more forcefully. He took a step towards Mabel and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her lightly, forcing her to listen to him. “No! We can’t leave! They’ll find us, and you know what the god will do to us if we run now. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” He locked his eyes onto hers, silently willing her to stop and listen to him. He watched a tear run down her freckle splayed cheek and she let out a shaky breath.

“But…” she said, her voice was raspy and heavy with despair. “But I don’t want to lose you, Dipper,” His vision slightly became blurry from his own tears, but he refused to cry in front of his sister. He couldn’t do that to her. He pulled her into a tight hug, trying to blink away the tears before she could notice.

“It will be alright,” he said, his words getting caught in his throat, making his voice sound weak. “It will be alright…” he said quieter, almost to reassure himself that everything will be okay. That he didn't have to go with the guards that will show up at the door any moment. He stood there for a long while, holding Mabel tightly. He knew for a while that this day would come, but he had never expected it to arrive so quickly. He took a deep, shaky breath.

‘Maybe we could run’ he thought, looking over to the filled bags splayed across Mabel’s worn cot just across the room from them. ‘We might be able to make it, if we went quickly’. But he knew that they would never make it. They wouldn’t make it past the border of the village, and they would be punished severely for trying to escape without permission. He was trapped.

All of a sudden he heard the village outside become eerily quiet, you could hear a pin drop. They where here. Dipper held his breath and shut his eyes tight, still holding on to Mabel as if she where the only thing keeping him on the ground. They waited, silently. He could feel Mabel shaking in his arms, or maybe it was him. For just a moment the world seemed to stand still, the sound was his heartbeat thumping in his ears. Suddenly, a loud thudding noise came from the front of their little shack, startling them both. Mabel squealed and held onto Dipper even tighter.

“I’m not letting them take you,” she whispered into his chest, she was crying hard now, barely even able to speak. “I’m not letting them take you!” She cried, louder this time.

She kept repeating it, refusing to let go of her brother. He held on to her for a moment longer, then took a deep breath and pushed her away. Stepping back, he looked at her once more, taking in all her features and memorizing every freckle, every strand of hair, every splash of colour in her vibrant eyes.

“It will be alright,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

He reached out and touched her cheek once more, before turning towards the door. He wiped a tear from his own face as he faced her one last time, she stood in the middle of the room, tears streaming down her face. He waved goodbye before opening the door. Two tall men stood in front of him. He looked up at their faces and he was met with a cold hard glare. The men wore dark, almost black shendyts, which where held up by a special gold and black pendant that signified that they where guardians of the god. Their aura demanded respect and fear from everyone who looked their way. One of the guards scanned Dipper, looking him up and down. Evaluating his every inch of skin, which was covered in constellations of scars.

“Come with us,” said one of the men in a low booming voice, which made Dipper jump.

The one man turned and strode back down the path that left their little shack and into the streets, expecting him to follow behind. Dipper hesitated before taking a step, but the other man took his arm in a death grip and almost dragged him forcefully along the path behind his partner. Dipper turned to look back at his home for the last time. He would never be seeing that place ever again. He turned back to face the direction he was walking, or rather being pulled. He watched the men walk, with almost cat-like grace, as they avoided cracks in the ground with almost too much ease.

Dipper noticed that the village around him was bare. No life was to be found anywhere. The children weren't out playing like before, and the workers had closed their shops. The only sound that was to be heard was the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty streets. Dipper stayed silent as they walked past dark, empty shacks and markets. He wondered where they where taking him. The man in front of him had said something over his shoulder to the man guiding Dipper. Dipper couldn’t understand what he had said, it was a language he had never heard before.

He watched the man in front swiftly turn around a corner down another street, and Dipper quickly followed behind, with the other man still holding his arm to guide him. He stopped in his tracks as he knew where he was being taken.

“Keep walking,” the man ordered, his tone was low and brisk.

Dipper was pulled along towards the river in front of him. He watched as the man who led in front spoke quickly with the person on the boat, who was dressed exactly like the other men. But this one looked less menacing. The boat was carved wood with beautiful designs covering the sides. It was long, and wide. What had caught his attention was the area at the back of the boat. It was a little hut, just big enough for one person. Four wooden pillars held up a wooden carved ceiling with silk sheets draped over the sides to protect the inside from the sun. Dipper was pulled directly onto the narrow wooden carved boat.

He was brought to the back, where the little hut rested. He was pushed inside. He stood in the middle of the little covered area, admiring his surroundings. The floor was covered in beautiful soft silk cushions, and the sheets acted as walls of the room as they fluttered swiftly in the breeze. He sat down, warily, and sighed. The space in the covered area was just enough for him to stand up and lie down comfortably. He heard the men talking just outside his room, and he tried to listen but their language was too foreign. Suddenly they stopped their conversation abruptly, and the boat started moving.

“Rest,” one of the men called to Dipper from across the boat. “We will wake you when we arrive,” his voice was clipped and choppy, and Dipper knew that it couldn't be his first language.

He fell back against the cushions underneath him and closed his eyes. He felt numb. His eyes still stung from crying, and his heart still hurt from his goodbye. He should be feeling scared, but he was too exhausted to care. He was emotionally drained, and he couldn’t open his eyes again. He lay there, on the soft and colourful cushions, swaying with the boat as they rowed down the silent river. They where getting closer and closer to his fate. He felt the warm breeze across his marked pale skin, and he let out a deep breath. And the river slowly rocked him to a troubled and restless sleep.


	3. Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is Dipper's POV again, but its a short dream scene that I wanted to add to the last chapter but decided on separating them. the next one's Bill again.

“Dipper!” a shrill voice screamed at him from behind, it was Mabel. Her voice sent a violent shiver down his spine.

He could not see her, he could not see anything. It was pitch black. He tried to move, but his entire body was being pressed down by an invisible force. Dipper tried to call back to Mabel, to scream, to say anything, but the air was sucked out of his lungs as soon as he opened his mouth. He struggled against the weight holding him down. The weight became heavier and heavier, crushing him slowly. His breathing became short and jagged as he heard a crack come from his ribcage. The sharp sound echoed through the empty space around him, as his bones vibrated from the shock. A sharp pain spread across his body like an angry flame. He tried to scream out in pain, but he could not make a sound. His fingers began to tingly violently, and he could no longer feel his legs. The weight became heavier an heavier, slowly crushing Dipper, snapping his bones painfully and pressing the air from his lungs. Then all of a sudden, the weight lifted off of him and disappeared into the darkness. Dipper lay there silently, tears falling down the sides of his face as he could still make no sound. He remained paralyzed, but he wouldn’t want to move even if he could. He closed his eyes and tried to relax his muscles as much as he could, wincing silently as the effort to move triggered his irritated nerves.

“Dipper,” he heard someone call him from behind.

The voice made him jump, as it sounded so close. Dipper thought it was Mabel, but it sounded too distorted. It sounded as if the voice was coming from underwater, and he could barely make out what it was saying.

“I’m not letting them take you,” said the voice.

It was Mabel. Her voice became more and more distorted and distanced as she repeated the sentence. “I’m not letting them take you,”

Dipper’s heart skipped a beat as his chest became even heavier than before. His body pooled with despair and longing as he saw her face in his memories. His despair slowly turned to hot anger as her voice became more ragged and bitter. The sound of his sister’s voice made Dipper angry at the god for stripping him from his life, for taking Mabel from him. Then all of a sudden the voice stopped, and everything became silent. He lay waiting, anticipating what may come next. Then he was falling.

His stomach dropped as the dark ground disappeared from underneath him. He was no longer paralyzed, and his body screamed from the excruciating pain. He heard a girls scream echo through the darkness as he fell. The wind ripped at his hair, the cool air whipping past his marked body. His chest crying out in pain as he twisted through the air. He kept thinking about Mabel. He tried to remember her face, her smile, her laugh. He tried to grasp to any remaining ties to reality as he was enveloped into the blackness surrounding him.

“I’m not letting them take you,” Mabel’s voice whispered into his ear, and that was the last thing he heard before he fell into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Dipper and Bill meet soon, but not in the next chapter. it's coming don't worry)


	4. The Boy with the Constellation of Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i havent updated lately and kinda left it off at an odd spot, i've been having a hell of a month. (i raced through the editing for this chapter so pls ignore any spelling mistakes) *edit* also i spread out the paragraphs a bit cause people where saying that it was difficult to read (gah sorry!! i didn't even realize, i'll do that from now on)

The streets where quiet, with only the sound of footsteps against stone echoing through the tiny village. Bill strode confidently down the twisting paths, heading towards the centre of the town. People scrambled out of his way, quickly gathering their things and running into their shacks, locking their doors behind them.

Bill smiled to himself as he continued into town. He spread fear wherever he went, and he was proud of it. He never visited the village, he hated mortals with his entire being, but he had a reason to be here. He had to check on Makhlas, his favourite servant who had fallen ill, it was the least he could do. He swept down the alleyways, passing food merchants and clothing shops. He reached out beside him and swiped a polished green apple that sat on a pile of fruit for sale, and took a bite. He skipped down the uneven steps and turned right down a brightly lit and open street. The state of the shacks had improved the farther he went into the city, as he was almost reaching the centre. He took another bite of his apple and tossed it to the side, hearing it bounce off a stone wall and splatting onto the ground.

He jogged down more steps and stepped out into a large open area. He stopped, sighing, and looked around. He made it to the centre of the town. A large stone sculpture of himself stood proudly in the exact centre of the square, surrounded by a pool of crystal water. Markets and little shops splayed across the floor of the town square, covering the polished stone ground almost entirely. Few people where still scrambling away, as the large area fell ominously silent. Though the silence didn't bother bill, he loved it.

He sauntered through the rows and rows of markets, admiring the handiwork of the villagers. He despised mortals, but at times he was amused by them. They where so simple minded and ignorant, but there was something astonishing about how they worked, and how they lived. He stood beside a cotton merchant’s hut, feeling the soft fabrics between his fingers. Many colours and textures were piled on top of eachother, almost spilling out of the sides of the tiny hut. He turned to leave, but something caught his eye. A golden fabric shone brightly in the ray of sunlight filtering through the broken roof of the hut. He reached into the bundle of textiles and pulled out the one that caught his eye. It was a beautiful golden scarf, as long as he was tall. He ran it through his fingers, it was silky and warm to the touch. He admired it, the way that it shone beautifully in the sun. He wrapped it loosely around his waist, tying it in a knot at his hip, and continued on his way.

He made it past several rows of merchants and huts, almost reaching his destination, when suddenly he heard footsteps down the street at the entrance to the square, just to the left of him. Bill stopped mid-step, and turned his head to hear better.

The footsteps were loud, and it sounded like it was more than one person. He tilted his head, they were dragging something with them. Bill was intrigued and curious, so he spun around and jogged quietly towards the sounds. The footsteps were accompanied by voices, speaking in his native tongue. He couldn’t make out what they where saying, so he stepped closer, leaning against the stone wall beside the entrance gates.

He heard them coming closer, but he still couldn’t hear what they were saying. He peeked over the side of the wall, brushing golden hair out of his eyes as he squinted down the street. He stepped out into the street and ran quickly up the steps that he had just came down moments before, turning quickly behind another alleyway, listening.

The voices and footsteps where echoing from the street just beside him, moving fast towards the edge of the village. Bill listened closely to the men, as their voices boomed loudly enough for him to hear.

“We are almost there,” said one of the voices. “Just a few more streets and then were at the docks.” Bill stopped.

‘The docks?’ he thought, confused. ‘Why in the world are they going to the docks’.

“We are late,” another voice snapped Bill out of his thought. “The sacrifice needed to be there already.”

The footsteps became quieter as they stepped into a side street, a shortcut to the river. Bill slipped into the alleyway behind them, body pressed against the warm stone wall, and he could see them. He watched as two large men led this scrawny boy down the dimly lit side street, turning right towards the river, and out of Bill’s sight.

He sighed, letting his head fall back against the sturdy wall he was leaning against. Bill debated on just going back to find Makhlas, but he was still curious about where they were taking that boy. He took a breath before hopping back onto his feet and sneaking down the alley, following the loud men. He slid into the street, catching a glimpse of the boy before turning another corner. Bill sprinted silently after them, clearing the street in only a few steps.

He caught up to them, and he could hear their voices. He leaned over and watched as the two men and the boy arrived at the river, the man in the front talking to another man on a boat, the other man holding onto the boy tightly. Bill could tell that the boy was different, but he couldn’t tell why.

Bill slid down the street, making sure not to be seen by the men. As he got closer, he could see more of the scene in front of him. They where his men, his servants, telling by their clothing and the gold pendants. Bill snuck behind a doorway, hiding in the shadows created by the frame. He watched as the boy sat, waiting.

Bill stared at the boy. He was fascinating, in a different sense of the word. A constellation of scars splayed across his cream skin, and his warm brown hair fell in front of his face messily. He was dirty, and his clothes where worn and falling apart. He was a slave. The boy looked up, and Bill’s heart stopped. He was beautiful. He was more than beautiful. His full lips were cracked and dry from the harsh sun, and his face was dusted with dirt. Bill could see that the boy’s cheeks where flushed red, and his eyes where puffy from crying. It hurt Bill to see that this beautiful mortal looks so filled with despair, so filled with emotion. All of a sudden the man came back from the boat, roughly grabbing the boy by his shoulders, hauling him onto the boat and pushing him into a little hut at the back. Before Bill could even get out of his spot, the boat set off into the river heading towards Bill’s palace.

He let out a long breath, falling back against the door behind him. He stood there for a long moment, thinking about the boy. The beautifully sad boy. Bill’s head shot up as he remembered what he had heard one of the guards say. That boy, he was the sacrifice. Bill’s sacrifice. Bill’s eyes lit up as he stood up from his spot, stepping back out into the street. He laughed joyously to himself, he was going to see the boy again. Tonight. At the ceremony. He stopped dead, and his heart sank. The sacrifice.

‘Sacrifice’ he thought, angrily. He clenched his fists, his body being taken over with rage. ‘The sacrifice, how could I be so stupid!’

He was going to see the boy again, but he would be met with his fate soon after. Bill took a deep breath, trying to calm his temperament. He stood there for a second, eyes closed, regaining his composure. Bill opened his eyes after a moment, and slowly made his way back down the streets towards the square.

The village was still empty, leaving Bill in a deafening silence as his thoughts raced through his head. He wanted the boy, oh how he wanted the boy, but he is the sacrifice. A sacrifice would have a few days to be used however the god pleased, and then he would be met with a horrible fate. Bill shuddered at the thought, and stopped.

Bill was confused. Why was he feeling this way for a mortal? A slave, nonetheless. Compared to a god like himself, that boy is an insect, an unimportant spec in the village, that no one would miss. But Bill’s heart still ached when he thought of him, the boy’s beauty gave him shivers. Bill could see the boy’s soul when he looked at him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about him. The boy with the body full of scars. What was wrong with him? Bill shook his head, spinning on his heels, and he strode down the street heading back towards his palace. He decided against seeing Makhlas today, he would come back later.

Bill almost sprinted down the quiet streets, turning down shortcuts and slipping through alleyways. His mind was filled with thoughts, too many to bare. He arrived at his palace, a beautifully carved dark polished stone arch with golden engravings rose from the ground, acting as an entrance to his palace. His home.

He sighed and snuck in through a secret side way that led directly towards his room. He slipped in the side door, and crept quietly through the kitchens, swiping an apple on the way. He tore up the steps leading towards the top of the palace, and strode down the long polished marble hallway towards his room. He passed several servants carrying food and treasures towards the front of the palace, they must be prepping for the celebration tonight.

Bill took two steps at a time as he sprinted up the next flight of stairs that led straight to his room. When he arrived at the top, he stepped into his room and sighed deeply. He was home. Familiar sights and smells comforted him, his shoulders sagging in relief.

He trudged across his room and collapsed onto his bed. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breathe of air, melting into the cushions underneath him. The warm breeze sent a shiver run down his back as his muscles relaxed. The sound of silence filled the room, as he slowly drifted off to sleep to thoughts of the boy with the constellation of scars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im going to be updating this story quicker now that im back, they meet soon dont worry


	5. Golden Scarf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i haven't been posting much lately, i have been so busy but here is another chapter i just finished editing

Bill sighed, looking up at the boy’s warm brown eyes. He saw a glimmer of mischief flash on his features as he lowered himself down towards the bed. Bill lay on the golden streaked sheets as he watched the beautiful boy kneel on the edge of the large array of pillows, his face twisting into a smirk.

Dipper leaned forward, and crawled up on top of Bill, his eyes scanning the dark features under him. Taking in every curve, every mark, every trace of gold splayed across his skin slowly making his way up his body. Bill shuddered at the closeness of Dipper, he could feel his warm breath on his skin, sending his nerves into a frenzy. Dipper stopped as he reached Bill’s face. His eyes locked onto Bill’s brilliant gold one’s as they lay there, hearts beating furiously. It was a long while before they said anything. They basked in the silence, finally escaping the celebration that would currently be going on outside. 

Bill reached up and pushed Dipper’s messy hair behind his ear, smiling as he saw part of the unique hidden birth mark on his forehead. His features where warm and loving, something Bill rarely ever saw. Bill pulled him down and kissed him, feeling his warm lips against his as he pressed his body down on top of Bill, creating friction between them. 

Shivers rushed down his spine as he struggled to regain his composure. Bill sighed at the pressure of the body on top of him as the kiss became deeper and more desperate. Dipper’s hands explored Bill’s body, feeling every inch of his skin, grasping at his sides for stability. Bill ran his hands down Dipper’s spine, grabbing a firm hold of his sides and preparing to flip him over when something stopped him. Dipper’s hand movements had gone farther down, reaching the belt holding Bill’s clothing. 

Bill let out a soft moan as Dipper ghosted across the front of the belt, desperately close to him. Dipper separated from Bill’s lips, breathing heavy. Dipper looked into Bill’s eyes, a devilish grin growing on his face. Bill’s breathing hitched violently as Dipper pressed down on him, palming him hard through his clothes. Bill let out a loud groan, thrusting up into Dipper’s hand roughly, desperately searching for more friction. Dipper smirked as he worked him through his clothes, only a thin layer of satin separating them. Bill was moaning and breathing heavy, his composure completely lost. He needed to regain control of the situation, but the boy’s movements made him twitch with need. In a flash, Bill reached up and grabbed Dipper’s sides, flipping him over and slamming him on the bed, pinning him down tight. 

“You think,” Bill gasped, staring fiercely into Dipper’s eyes. “That you are the one… in control…?” Dipper’s eyes widened in shock, and he let out a quiet moan under his breath. Bill leaned down and kissed the boy hungrily, hands quickly reaching for his own belt. He untied it gracefully, and pulled the long golden fabric up towards Dipper’s chest. Bill shot a questioning look to Dipper, who whimpered and struggled against Bill’s grip at the sight of the golden scarf. Bill twitched at his reaction, his desire taking control as he lost the last remaining fragments of his composure. 

He grabbed Dipper’s wrists tightly and yanked them over his head, tying them together and attaching them to the frame against the wall. Dipper whimpered quietly at the constriction and pulled against the restraints, sighing as they didn't move an inch. Bill sat back and admired the scene in front of him. The beautiful boy was tied up, vulnerable, and writhing underneath him. His hair was messy and falling in front of his eyes, his cheeks where flushed and his eyes where dark with lust and need. He was panting and whimpering, begging for more. Bill almost came just watching the boy. Bill slowly leaned down, his face inches from Dipper’s chest. He traced the constellations on the boy’s skin with his tongue, keeping eye contact with Dipper the entire time. 

Dipper’s skin trembled as Bill’s tongue swept across his abdomen, creating patterns and swirls to match the scars on his skin. Dipper let out a low moan as Bill explored lower and lower with his tongue, stopping just shy of the boy’s V line. Bill lifted his face to look at Dipper’s for just a moment, absorbing his beauty. Dipper closed his eyes and Bill took that as a sign to continue. Bill gracefully leaned back down to Dipper’s lower abdomen, and licked a stripe along his member, stopping at the tip and retracing his tracks back down. Dipper’s head flew back against the wall as he groaned loudly, sending vibrations throughout the room. His hips thrusted up violently against Bill’s mouth as he writhed under Bill. 

Bill worked him delicately, feeling Dipper twitch with the stimulation. Bill became more and more rough as he took in more of Dipper, sucking hard at the tip. Dipper’s eyes rolled back into his head as he tried to bite back a loud moan, creating a strangled cry instead. He had never felt this desperate, this vulnerable, this hungry. But he didn't want it to end. Bill worked him up and down expertly, biting slightly at the edges, leaving marks where he went. Dipper shook and trembled becoming closer and closer to the edge, and Bill knew it but he didn't stop. Bill quickened his pace, sucking and biting until Dipper couldn't handle it anymore. Bill detached from Dipper and climbed up over him, continuing the torture with his hand movements instead as he kissed Dipper furiously. 

Dipper was a panting and moaning mess, whimpering and writhing under Bill’s movements. Bill was painfully hard, and watching Dipper in this state was enough to push him over the edge as well. He twitched as Dipper bit his lip, begging for more, desperately in need for something more. But Dipper wasn’t ready for Bill to use him, he couldn’t take advantage of him like that. Dipper thrusted roughly into Bill’s hands once more, crying out as he came hard. His body shook and trembled as he came down from his high. Bill closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to will away his climax. 

Dipper was panting underneath Bill, his eyes opened to look into Bill’s glowing golden one’s with so much love that Bill’s heart skipped a beat. After a moment, they caught their breath and Bill reached up to untie Dipper, expertly undoing the ties and with a flick of his wrist the golden scarf fell from the wall. Bill sat up, pulling away the tie and throwing it across the room, watching it land softly on the ground. He turned back to Dipper and his breathing hitched. Dipper’s face was twisted into a mischievous smirk as his gaze trailed down to Bill’s lower abdomen, noticing how hard he still was. 

Dipper bit his lip, and Bill twitched. Dipper leaped onto Bill, almost tackling him and pushing him down onto his back, laughing. Dipper kissed Bill hard on the lips, lifting off quickly and sliding down his body grazing his teeth along his sides, sending shivers run up Bill’s spine. He finally reached Bill’s V line, his eyes widened at how hard he was. Dipper reached out hesitantly and traced a line down the side with the tip of his finger, feeling Bill twitch under his touch. Bill sighed as he watched the boy with desire. Dipper slowly grasped Bill and began to work him, becoming more and more rough with each stroke. It took every ounce of control in Bill to stay perfectly still and to let Dipper go at his own pace. 

Bill closed his eyes and took a deep shaky breath, his muscles trembling. Dipper pumped Bill, moving his wrists methodically and quickly keeping up pace. Bill let out quiet moans every stroke, coming closer and closer to the edge. Bill could feel the weight on the bed adjust slightly as Dipper leaned over and took his tip in his mouth, sucking hard. Bill’s eyes shot open as he groaned loudly, his back arching off the bed. His body shook and twitched, and his breathing hitched. Dipper began to work him with his mouth, sucking and biting just like Bill had done to him earlier. 

Bill’s hands had found Dipper’s mass of brown hair and he held on tightly, as if he was the only one keeping him grounded. Bill was panting and biting back moans, trying to keep control of his movements. Dipper quickened his strokes, going faster and faster feeling Bill getting closer and closer. Dipper took the entirety of Bill in his mouth, sucking as hard as he could, finally pushing Bill over the edge. He yelled out and thrusted up into Dipper’s mouth, arching his back and trembling. 

He moaned as he came down from his climax, gasping for breath. Dipper climbed back up and lay beside Bill, cuddling close to his side. They lay there panting, messy and sticky from sweat. Bill pulled the boy close to his side, pressing his face into his curly brown hair and closing his eyes. All time seemed to still for the moment, Bill could hear the sound of the breeze blowing through the curtains, and the soft sounds of the celebration outside echoing through the streets. He smiled to himself as he heard the sound of the boy’s breathing slow down as he slowly drifted off to sleep, and Bill followed shortly after. 

\-------

Bill woke up with a start. He sat up quickly and noticed that the warmth beside him was gone. He looked around the room, and he noticed that it was still daylight. He felt a pang in his heart as he realized what had happened. 

‘It was all just a dream?’ he thought, angrily. He slammed his fist down on the sheets, leaning forward and running his hands roughly through his hair. 

He could remember everything about that boy, how he looked, how he smelled, how he felt, how he tasted. It was burned into his mind and he couldn’t stop thinking about him. He looked outside and saw that he still had many hours of daylight left. He fell back onto the bed exasperated. Bill lay there staring at the ceiling, as he willed himself back to sleep. He closed his eyes and fell into a forced, empty, and restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont hate me but i am literally a slut for dream smut scenes so I'm sorry but I'm really not


End file.
